Frolis
by Swinging Cloud
Summary: Companion Smut Piece to No Solid Ground. "The only way to get Brittany pregnant, without a petri dish, is to use the transforming power, perform a frolis maneuver, and do it myself… but that means one thing- I have to become a dude." Brittana. AU. Guy!Santana. Two-Shot!
1. Frolis

**Warning:** Hetero sex, as the summary says. If that's not your thing, you can still enjoy the hilarious pitfalls of being a dude without reading the actual smut part.

**A/N:** Hiiiii everyone! It's finally here! The companion piece to my epic story, **No Solid Ground**, in which Santana becomes a guy to get her lady-lover preggo.

Thanks to everyone who read NSG, and voted for it in the **Glee Fanfic Awards**! It won runner-up for best sci-fi fic, which means one thing: you guys are awesome! I seriously have the best readers in the entire fandom, no joke. Pat yourselves on the back for being amazing. :')

This fic takes place between the last chapter and the epilogue, but you don't really have to read NSG to know what's going on. But hey, it can't hurt. If you're looking to waste your life on a long, loooong story, feel free to read (or re-read! Lol) it.

Enjoy!

* * *

I was nervous.

Like, really nervous. More nervous than I was that time I had to fight Sebastian, more than that time I almost died- okay, let's be real, though, that was way more than one time. More nervous than when I asked Brittany to marry me- _again_. (We were already married, remember? It's not like she'd say _no_.)

But seriously. My stomach felt like a garden. You know, those lame ones for butterflies and shit? Yeah, like a butterfly garden.

I was about to talk to Brittany about having kids.

Now don't get me wrong, I already knew Brittany wanted to have a baby with me. She'd kind of dropped some pretty obvious hints, like _Oh wouldn't it be nice to have children right now_ and _Gee, I'd sure love to be a mother. _

Well, okay, not _exactly_ like that. But obvious enough for me to catch on that maybe it was a conversation we should have, you know?

But still, it was a pretty intimidating subject. Like, how many. When. Who would carry. How she wanted it done- there were so many options already, and it was overwhelming. I didn't even know where to start, really.

It wasn't a decision I was taking lightly, but Brittany and I had been married for a few years, and our careers were in a good place, and so, it was probably the right time, right? Is there ever a _right_ time? I guess you've just got to go with what _feels_ right. Right?

Right.

So I woke up with a butterfly garden in my stomach (seriously, admission is 14 bucks with a special discount for military and seniors- wait, gross, nevermind) and as Brittany pressed a loving kiss to my lips to leave for work that morning, I felt those butterflies multiplying like rabbits in Australia. I knew I was going to have to talk to her about it. Today.

_Today_.

Okay, honestly, I had already done some planning and research.

I had called Quinn.

And that's where it had all started.

* * *

"I don't know what to do," I whined into the phone, and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end as she sighed.

"Well, if you want me to explain the mechanics of how to make a baby, I'm afraid you've called the wrong person, but I _can_ send you the links to some very informative websites and the number to Planned Parenthood-"

"Q, I'm serious," I snapped.

"So am I," she shot back. "Is Brittany going to have the kids?"

"Well- yeah, I guess," I said dumbly. I had pictured her being the one to carry. Not that I didn't want to, but- she's the one who expressed wanting to have them, so-

"You should probably confirm that," Quinn teased. "But let's just assume for the time being that you're getting her pregnant."

"Okay," I said, nodding, even though she couldn't see me. It was quiet for a moment. "Okay," I said again, "So what do I do?"

"Fucking _get her pregnant_, Santana," Quinn snapped. "Jeez, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"No, but how-"

Quinn huffed. "You have the transforming power, right?"

"Yeah, but what does-"

"Then _use_ _it_."

And that's when it hit me- I could use the transforming power!

"Yeah," I said absently, the idea taking hold in my brain. Seriously, why hadn't I thought of it sooner? "Yeah, thanks- and Q?"

"Hm?"

I smirked. "Can you really get me the links to those websites?"

She huffed. "Good-_bye_, Santana."

Laughing, I said good-bye to Quinn, who begrudgingly accepted it and then crawled back into whatever current political advocacy cave she was squatting in, and I smiled at myself, feeling pretty pleased with my absolute brilliance.

If I performed a _frolis_ maneuver, I could combine two sets of DNA to create a new form- two sets like _my parents_. All I had to do was acquire them, combine their DNA, and make another me- a boy version of me. Simple. There was only one problem-

I had no fucking clue how to do a _frolis_ maneuver.

Obviously, Brittany did. She could guide me through it. But I kind of liked the idea of surprising her and sweeping her off her feet and all that romantic spontaneous shit. I didn't want to get all caught up in the mechanics of it, you know? And I already knew she'd be okay with me being a guy _during_- after all, she'd tried to have sex with me _as Sam_ once, so I don't really think she cared too much about my form's gender.

But if I didn't have Brittany guide me through the process, that meant I had to find someone else.

"Ask Sugar," Mercedes said flatly, stabbing her fork into her potatoes. It was days later and we were at lunch. I had already visited my parents and surreptitiously acquired them through a firm handshake with my father and a long hug with my mother (and I admit, it was weird, but I powered through it) and now I wasn't sure how to proceed. I had the DNA I needed. I just had no way to combine it.

Trust me. I'd tried. And boy, did I feel stupid afterwards.

"If there's anyone who knows someone who could help you, it's her," Mercedes continued, drawing me back into the conversation.

I pushed my pasta around in my bowl, resting my chin in my hand. "I guess."

"What?" Mercedes demanded with a raised eyebrow. "You don't think she'd help you?"

"No, she would," I said. "That's the problem. She's creepy, Wheezy. She'd get _too_ involved, and-"

"Do you want to surprise Brittany, or not?" she asked pointedly. "Sugar can help you, you know she can. And it's _for Brittany_. It's worth putting up with that Richie Bitch for her, ain't it?"

I sighed. "Of course. Anything is worth it, for her."

"Exactly." Mercedes took another bite of her potatoes. "I sure wish Sam felt that way about me."

I rolled my eyes. "He _does_. He just has to grow some balls, is all. Give him time."

"It's been years. What's he waiting for? Another war?"

I shrugged. "He's probably just intimidated. Think about it, Wheezy- you've been through a lot together."

"True, but so have you and Brittany."

I grinned like an idiot. "Yeah, but I just got lucky with Brittany, I guess."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Here we go," she said, standing up abruptly. "Satan, you've got that stupid look on your face again. I've gotta run before everything turns to mush around here."

I laughed and stood up with her, shoving her in the arm. "Don't be jelly."

Mercedes paused and looked at me, smiling genuinely. "I _am_ jealous, Santana. I want what you and Brittany have, with Sam."

I smiled back. "Well wake up, Aretha- Brittany and I are _perfect_. And you and Sam are- you and Sam."

"Okay," she chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I _am_ happy for you, though. I hope it works out."

"It will," I said firmly, and she leaned in for a hug. I squeezed her gently.

When she pulled back, she offered me another sincere smile. "Good luck, Santana."

I swallowed and nodded. "Thanks."

It wasn't luck I needed- it was patience.

I had to call Sugar.

* * *

"Well, it's about time," she complained, and _already_, I was regretting my decision. I just had to keep telling myself _it's for Brittany_. And keep breathing. And thank the starlit heavens that I couldn't strangle Sugar through the phone.

"Yeah, so can you help me?" I demanded, trying to steer the conversation back towards why I called and away from Sugar's long, rambling complaints.

"Of course. I know just the person."

"This isn't like last time when you sent me to that crackhouse, is it, because-"

"Calm your tits, she's like Brittany."

That got me to pause. "What?"

"You know- an Andalite _nothlit_? An Andalite living as a human?"

"There are others?" I asked incredulously. How did I not know that? And just where the fuck were they while we were getting our asses handed to us during the War?

"Of course. You didn't think all the survivors of the _Azimio_ that made it to Earth decided to jump right back into the war, did you? Not when they could live peaceful lives as humans."

I blinked. Well. _That_ was news. "Somehow, I thought Andalites were a lot more loyal and honorable-"

"Oh, please- do you hear yourself?"

I laughed. "Okay, you're right."

"They want to survive and be happy just like anyone else," Sugar said seriously. Then, "Okay, I'm texting you the address- and actually, you've already met her."

"I have?" I asked, pulling the phone away from my ear to look. Sure enough, there was a text on the screen with an address.

"Uh-huh."

"Who is-" There was the sound of scuffling and static, and then I heard Sugar yelling. I furrowed my brow and waited impatiently, and then Sugar came back on the line.

"Look, I've gotta go. Try to call me more often, okay? And be sure to let me know if it works so I can throw you a baby shower! Bye!"

"Righ-" I started, but I was cut off by a dial tone, and I was left standing in my living room, staring at my phone in confusion. A soft _mow_ at my feet made me look down at Lord Tubbington, who was staring up at me with a curious expression.

"Well, Lord T," I said as I crouched down to stroke my fingers over his head, "That actually went far better than I planned."

* * *

Upon entering the address into my GPS, I discovered that the house where I was going was very close to the place where Brittany and I had originally gotten married. Thankfully, our mansion wasn't across the country from it, but I was suspicious. Just _who_ was Sugar sending me to? Holly again? April? Some other crazy, blonde-haired lady?

As I pulled my bright red convertible something (look, Brittany's into cars, not me) up to the gate and buzzed in, I got even more suspicious. Whoever this Andalite _nothlit_ was, she's obviously done all right for herself. As I parked the car and stepped out, cautiously scanning my surroundings, I was met by a guy dressed in a tuxedo who only seemed to be a few years older than me. He was handsome, and his skin was unnaturally smooth and hairless. He gave me the creeps, but I held back my wince of disgust and forced a smile to my face.

"Mrs. Lopez," he said, and I tried to place his accent, because it sounded fake. I narrowed my eyes. Was _he_ a _nothlit_, too?

The guy- a butler, I guess?- guided me up the steps and through the enormous front doors, and I was impressed. The lady's mansion was _way_ larger than mine.

"We've been expecting you," the butler explained unnecessarily, and I half wondered if he'd been waiting to say that for a while because it sounded so ominous, but then we entered a huge sitting room, and seated comfortably in a tall, plush armchair was Carmen Tibideaux.

My jaw nearly dropped. "It's you!" I said, shocked.

Carmen took a calm sip from the wine glass in her hand and smiled. "So it is."

* * *

I sat on the couch. The butler- Brody- had brought me my own glass of wine, and a tray of little sandwiches. And as I stuffed my face with them, I listened as Carmen told me her story.

"It's good to see you again, Santana," she said, and her dark, soft eyes made me believe she actually meant it. It filled me with a warm feeling. It was good to know that I'd unknowingly had allies all those years ago, even though I didn't realize it.

"Yeah, you, too." I shook my head in amazement. "So, you're a-?"

She nodded. "I am. Although I was not part of the crew of the _Azimio_. I was originally part of a census mission here years ago- however, imagine the surprise of my team and myself when we learned the Yeerks had already made a move on this planet. We sent the transmission to the Fleet, informing them of the damage- but my team and I were discovered in the process." She paused, staring off into space for a moment. She swirled her glass of wine absently, and I waited for her to go on.

"The others were killed," she said finally, "and I was stranded here. My only choice was to try and disappear, to blend in to human society and wait, and in time," she smiled, "I grew to care for the humans."

"Wow," I said. I wondered if, had Brittany never met me, she would've taken the same path, but then I shook my head at my thoughts. No- the Yeerks were already too widespread by the time Brittany arrived. She was sent to wipe us out, not assimilate into a crumbling society. If Brittany had never met me, it was unlikely she would be a human now.

Which brought me to my next thought. I opened my mouth, but Carmen cut me off.

"Sugar's already explained to me why you're here," she said, looking at me carefully. Her stare almost seemed to be challenging, which belied the gentle smile on her lips. I swallowed. Just how much did Sugar tell her? I felt heat rising to my cheeks.

I licked my lips, shifting uncomfortably in my chair, and nodded, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, Carmen continued to talk.

"I'd like to help you," Carmen said, taking another sip of her wine. "Have you already acquired the necessary DNA?" I nodded again, and this time her smile reached her eyes. "Excellent. Then let's begin."

And that's how I managed to obtain a male version of myself.

* * *

When I got home, I nervously checked to make sure Brittany was still at work before I went into the bedroom and mentally prepared myself. I didn't want my intimate experience with Brittany to be my first time in my new form. I didn't know what to expect, and the last thing I needed was to accidentally break her nose or something because I wasn't careful. What a way to kill the fucking mood, right?

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. And then I began the change.

It wasn't the weirdest form I'd ever been in- I mean, I'd been a ladybug, for fuck's sake- but it was still weird because I was still, basically, _me_. All the DNA was the same, it was just a matter of differing chromosomes or whatever. So as I grew taller, and my muscles bulked up a little, and my chest flattened, and my hair shortened, it still felt _familiar_, somehow.

I spent the rest of the day in my male body, until Brittany got home. I practiced walking around. I did some push-ups, just because I could. I spent way too much time making muscles in the mirror. I couldn't deny that I was extremely attractive, because, let's face it- I had perfect DNA. I had a rugged beauty about my face. My eyes were the same, which I knew Brittany would appreciate- but my body was a lot more toned and chiseled. I flexed my biceps and smirked at myself in my reflection. This definitely wasn't so bad.

The size of my dick- wow, never thought I'd ever say that- was pretty average. Which was good, I guess. The last thing I wanted was to have some monster cock to deal with. That wasn't the point of this endeavor, really. I mean, sure, my pride was on the line and I definitely didn't want to have some shriveled up pathetic tiny thing, but still. All I needed was to get Brittany pregnant, and unfortunately, if I wanted to do it the authentic way, it meant there had to be a penis involved.

Speaking of which, I admit, I jacked off a couple of times. Come on, I didn't want to embarrass myself by arriving the second I got inside Brittany. She deserved a good experience, and not one with a teenage boy. I needed to at least try and build up some stamina. Because let's face it- my hand got me off _way_ too quickly. I could only imagine what being inside Brittany would feel like. Ugh. No way was I going to last.

Peeing was a joke. I didn't know why boys had such a hard time aiming. I had no problems in that department.

A few days of practicing, and I felt pretty confident that I was ready to deliver with my body. Now all I had to do was talk to Brittany about it. And then, well. Do it.

Right.

* * *

So here I am. Sitting on a blanket in a grassy field far from the eyes of the annoying public. (Being a famous celebrity is hard sometimes, you know? Especially when your wife is one, too.) I'd packed a picnic basket for us, and Brittany said she'd meet me for lunch, so I wait, wringing my hands nervously in my lap as I run over what I want to say again.

Warm hands slide over my shoulders and down around my chest and I can't help but grin as I feel Brittany's familiar presence behind me. She presses a kiss to my cheek and nuzzles her face into my neck, and I sigh as I reach up to hold her arms, leaning back into her.

"Hi, beautiful," she whispers into my ear, and my grin grows even wider. Carefully, I swing her around and into my lap, pulling her into a gentle, deep kiss which she returns immediately.

"How was your day?" I ask when I pull back, sliding my arms around her waist to hold her.

She grins, and it makes my heart flutter, just like it always has. She's so beautiful, it hurts. "Awesome. Rehearsal went really well, and I think we're going to be ready to open on Friday," she says.

I smile in return. "That's great, Britt." She's been working on a new act for her show for the past month. She'd held auditions for performers and only selected the ones she got a certain "sense" from, whatever that meant. I figured it must've had something to do with her own special way of reading people. Or something. I mean, I'd never questioned her abilities. She always seemed to just _know_. But anyways, once she'd selected a handful of performers, she'd given them the transforming power via the _Darrath Device_ and they'd been hard at work ever since. She'd come home exhausted but glowing every night for weeks, and now that the hard work was done and the show was ready to open, I had a feeling it was pretty good timing to talk about- well, that thing we never talk about.

I gather my courage.

"Britt," I say seriously, dropping my eyes to her lap, where I'm stroking my thumb over her hip nervously. She cups my chin and lifts my head, her smile playful and curious.

"What is it?" she asks knowingly, and I feel silly for trying to hide my nervousness from her. She can always tell what kind of mood I'm in. I look into her blue, blue eyes and feel my heart pounding. Now or never.

"I think we should have a baby," I blurt, then bite my lip. _Smooth, Santana. Real smooth._

She's silent for a moment, her smile never faltering, and then she leans forward and kisses me softly. When she pulls back, her smile is wider and her blue eyes are sparkling, calming the nervous twisting that's started in my stomach.

"I think you're right."

"Yeah?" I ask, feeling slightly amazed at how well that went. At her nod of confirmation, I grin. That wasn't so bad. I don't know why I was so worried. I continue smiling as we dig into our lunch, eating in comfortable silence. I enjoy just being in her company for a while as I eat my sandwich, and then I catch her eyes. She's watching me with a predatory look, and it takes me a second to realize-

I still have to get her pregnant.

My nerves hit me again full force, and as I swallow the bite I've been chewing, I inwardly pray I don't fuck this up.

* * *

**Ahaha, stay tuned for chapter two, which should be out soon, to read some more about Santana's troubles as a guy! ;)**

**And of course. Her sexy times. **

**Review if you feel like it! But if not, that's okay! I'll hopefully catch you the next time! :)**

**See you soon, pals! **


	2. Everything

**A/N:** Hiiiii everyone! Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows! I really appreciate it! :)

More antics in this chapter before we get to the sexy times, but remember- Santana's a dude during, so if that's not your thing, you can skip over it. I'm sure you'll be able to tell when it's coming- pun intended. ;) Har har har.

Anyways. Hope you guys like the second part to this little story!

Enjoy~

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Puck says with a smirk, and I struggle not to roll my eyes, "you're asking _me_ for advice?" He laughs, and I feel myself burning with embarrassment. "_Me_?"

"Don't make me regret this," I groan, pressing some fingers to my temple to stave off the headache I'm sure is on its way. It's Friday, and I'd opted to spend the entire day as my male form in order to be completely prepared for tonight. And since time limits are a thing of the past thanks to the _Darrath Device_, I'd spent the day wandering around as a guy. However, after witnessing a couple making out in the park I'd been taking a stroll through, I'd suddenly felt very ill-prepared for the events that were about to transpire later tonight after Brittany's show. So, in my panic, I'd turned to the only guy I knew that was almost as good at bedding ladies as I was.

"I have to admit, you've come to the right place," Puck nods as he walks beside me, and this time I can't stop my eye roll if I try. "I'm digging the new look, by the way." He tilts his head and gestures to my _manly_ body, and I punch him in the shoulder. Hard.

"Sorry, I belong to Brittany," I shoot at him. "And since when are you _gay_?"

"Ow," he whines, rubbing at his shoulder and ignoring my jab. "Watch it. You're not a weak little girl at the moment."

I punch him again for good measure, and he steps to the side, out of arm's reach, holding up his hands in protest. "Okay, jeez, I'll cool it with the jokes. Now do you want my help or not?"

"I don't know, I think your help is going to cost more than I'm willing to pay," I snap gruffly, crossing my strong arms over my chest. "Besides, I might've been delusional thinking you could help me in the first place, considering you're _you_."

"I got _you_ in bed, didn't I?"

"Way to remind me. I'd finally blocked the traumatic horror from my memory."

He grins. "You're just mad because you can't make fun of my hair anymore."

"No, I definitely still can." I eye his hair, which doesn't really look bad now that he'd grown it out. "Is that a toupee?" I tease, reaching up to touch his short comb-over, forgetting for a moment that I'm a dude and it looks really, really gay of me.

Puck notices the same thing, only sooner, and ducks his head away from my hand. "Okay, rule number one if you're going to be a guy-"

"I'm _not_ going to be a guy. I'm just going to get Brittany pregnant and hopefully never have to re-visit this form again."

"But what if she digs your cock?"

"Puck, that's gross," I growl, threateningly clenching my fist again. "Brittany loves me just the way I am. This is purely so we can have a child by both of us."

"Okay, okay," he relents with a smirk. "So. When you get in there-"

"This was a bad idea," I mutter.

"-Nibble on her ear."

I glare at him. "What?"

"Nibble on her ear a little- it drives girls crazy."

"No, it doesn't," I snap. I can't believe what an idiot he is. "In fact, Brittany _hates_ that."

"See, that's my point," Puck says with a smile.

"That you're fucking stupid and I should've never asked you for advice in the first place?"

"No," he says seriously, placing his hand on my shoulder. "That you already _know_ what Brittany likes. You know her. So just do what's gonna feel good for her."

"But I'm not good with-" I lower my voice. "My stamina." I feel my cheeks burning and my stomach sinks, and I just know that I've made a mistake in telling Puck about my problems. That there's no way I'm going to be able to live it down.

His smirk only confirms my fears, but thankfully, he spares me some more humiliation. Knowing him, he's probably saving it to bring up later at the worst possible time. "So think of something really, really unsexy. Think of, like, dead kittens or something. That'll help."

"I'm trying to build stamina, not burst into tears, Puck," I growl, still feeling foolish.

"Well then find your own buzzkill, dude," he says. "I can't exactly help you with that." He smiles genuinely, and I smile in return as he adds, "But I _can_ say that nobody loves Brittany more than you do, and for some reason, that bombshell is crazy about you, too. So I know whatever you do, it'll be perfect to her."

"Aw, Puck, that's so sweet. Maybe you _are_ turning gay."

"You wish."

"If it means you'll stop being a pig and making disgusting remarks about me and Brittany? Definitely."

A loud beep goes off, and Puck checks his phone quickly, then gives me a regretful smile. "Gotta go, dude. Duty calls and all."

I smile proudly as we shake hands. That's not gay, right? "Of course. Knock 'em dead."

He grins. "You, too. I expect good news. And, you know, if you're looking for baby names, I think Noah is-"

"Good-_bye_, Puckerman."

"Right. See ya."

I watch him go and slowly release a breath.

Dead kittens. Got it.

* * *

Dead kittens aren't working. Not at all.

I'm currently sitting in a restaurant with Quinn, who'd called me up randomly demanding lunch with me while she was in town for some meeting with some publication editor. Or something. How could I refuse? She's very persuasive.

And once I'd informed her of my _change_, she'd demanded even harder that I have lunch with her.

So here I am.

Sporting a very unattractive boner.

Look, I can't help it, okay? I mean, Quinn is super attractive, but I have no desire to go digging in her lady garden. Unfortunately, my little friend has other ideas, and I'm just thankful I'm sitting down and able to cover the hard evidence (oh, you like that?) with a napkin. Hopefully, my boner for Quinn will go away- again, never thought I'd ever say that- before we part. I just have to think of something unsexy.

Dead kittens. Right.

"I have to admit, Santana, you make a very attractive man," Quinn teases, taking a sip of her tea, her pinky out daintily. I scowl at her.

"I make a very attractive woman, too," I grump, taking a bite out of my medium-rare steak. What? It's what a _man_ eats, okay? (Okay, I admit, I'd tried to order a salad, but after a weird look from the waiter, I'd changed it to a steak. Whatever.)

"True, but I find it rather amusing that you've been _practicing_ in the form. It's cute." Her smile is genuine and it makes her hazel eyes sparkle. But I'm not having any of that.

"We always practiced in new forms before a mission," I defend, glaring down at my steak. It's still bleeding. I wish I'd ordered that salad.

"A mission?" she teases. "That's-"

"Cute, I know, I know," I mumble.

"I was going to say _lame_, but, well," she says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, and I sigh.

"Can we talk about something else? How's your- whatever you do, coming along?"

Glaring, Quinn takes another sip of her tea. "Five Year Memorial March, and it's coming along great, actually."

"Has it been five years already?"

"Not exactly, but it takes quite a few months of preparations for something this huge." She turns to look wistfully out the window near our table, and I feel bad for a moment. Doing these sorts of things can't be easy for her. "It's kind of cool, actually," she says, her attention still focused outside. "I get to work with Mercedes on this one, since our projects kind of overlap."

I nod in agreement. "I saw your book at the bookstore the other day."

"Oh yeah?" She lifts a sardonic eyebrow. "Did you read it?"

"Fuck no. Why would I want to read that garbage?"

She rolls her eyes. "You're such a bitch."

I shrug. "Yep. Brittany read it, though."

"Always the more humane one of the two of you," Quinn laughs. "Did she like it?"

"Nah. She threw that shit away."

"She did not!"

I smirk at her over my glass of iced tea. We continue to chat for a while, and then when the bill comes, Quinn hands it to me. I look at it stupidly. "What is this?"

"The bill," she smirks. "A gentleman always pays."

"Funny, Q, but I don't see any gentlemen around here." I pay anyway, because, please- it's not like I'm not filthy rich. I go to stand up and hug her, but I feel my stomach sink as I realize-

Fuck.

Dead kittens, Santana. Dead. Fucking. Kittens.

"Come here," Quinn says, holding open her arms.

I swallow, feeling a cold sweat start to form on the back of my neck. "Uh, Q, can't we just, um, shake hands?" I hold my hand out for her to take.

"Shake hands?" she demands in disbelief. She grabs my hand and pulls me closer, and then she's sliding her arms around me and holding me and-

"That had better be your _cell phone_, Santana."

Busted. Fuck my life.

"Uh-"

She pulls away quickly, looking exasperated. "You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"Look, I can't fucking help it, okay!" I whine. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes, and turns on her heel, storming out of the restaurant as I call after her. "Q!"

She doesn't stop. I sigh. A flash goes off in my face, and that's when I notice a pap guy standing a few feet away.

"What's your name?" he demands, readying his notepad, and I clench my fists.

"Oh, what the fuck?" I growl, advancing on him. He wisely decides to book it out of the restaurant and I rub at my temple. My headache has officially arrived.

I guess it can't really get much worse.

* * *

It's not even an hour later when the gossip website, WetPaint, has pictures of Quinn and me- as a dude- plastered all over their front page. Headlines like _Who is Quinn's New Beau?_, _Meet Fabray's New Hottie_, and _Quinn and Mystery Man Have a Lover's Quarrel!_ _Click here for details!_ take up the entire page. Links to article after article speculating about our supposed steamy, secret romance and the forbidden love and who I actually am cover the margin.

Quinn's PR rep calls me screaming, and it only adds to my headache.

Today is definitely not going as planned.

Brittany's show opens at 7pm and I don't plan on going as a man- the last thing I need is more tabloids accusing me of being a two-timer, or accusing Brittany of cheating on the female me with the male me- oh wow, do I hear myself?

I slip into a long, hot shower and then begin the longer, hotter process of getting ready. I pick out a tasteful, elegant but sexy (after all, I do plan on getting laid after the show) red dress, do my hair and make-up, and call my limo driver. I don't ordinarily take a limo to places, but it's for my wife's show, and I plan on making a grand entrance.

On the way I stop and pick up a huge bouquet of assorted flowers from my favorite florist shop. Brittany loves all kinds of flowers, and despite my fame, it's more personal if I pick them out for her myself. I select the most colorful ones, imagining the huge smile she's going to give me once I present them to her, and then, feeling elated and giddy at pleasing my wife, I'm on my way.

When I arrive, obviously there's a million reporters taking pictures. I answer all their comments about how supportive I am of Brittany's career with, "I'm Team Britt all the way," and earn a bunch of _aww_s from the crowd. I smile and wave and sign a few autographs outside the huge theatre, and then I make my way inside to my reserved, front row seats.

The show is flawless. Brittany always mesmorizes me with her shifting, but combined with the changing, colored lights on stage and the live, instrumental music, it's absolutely breathtaking. She always tells a story, and her team of supportive dancers blend with her movements seamlessly. Brittany always stands out to me, though. Maybe I'm biased, but I can never really take my eyes off of her transforming long enough to notice anyone else around her, unless they are directly in my line of sight, or standing next to Brittany.

As she changes from animal to animal, making the audience laugh with her silly antics, and cry from the effects and the way she moves, I can't help but feel my heart pounding with utter adoration and pride. So much pride. I'm overjoyed with how happy I am for her for living out her dreams, for achieving her goals, and I don't care who knows. I want to give Brittany everything that she wants.

As the show draws to a close and the performers take a bow to a standing ovation, Brittany's eyes automatically find mine- she always finds me- and then blows me a kiss. I smile at her and catch it (yes, I know we are dorks) and then blow her one in return. She catches it and places it over heart, and her brilliant smile has me swooning. She's so, so beautiful. And I'm so, so in love.

I stand there basking in the glow of Brittany's performance as the audience filters out, chatting about how breathtaking the show was and how they plan on seeing it again. I grin and make my way backstage. As I slide behind the curtain, I'm immediately crushed in a hug, and Brittany's kissing me.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Brittany says, a little breathless, when she pulls back. Her eyes are shining even in the semidarkness backstage, and I keep her pressed close as I kiss her again.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," I admit. I lift up the flowers, and, as I expected, her smile could power the sun as she accepts them.

"Thank you," she says, shaking her head a little in disbelief.

"Don't act so surprised," I tease, cupping her cheek and stroking my thumb over it. "I definitely bring you flowers every time."

"I know, but," she drops her eyes, smiling wistfully, and I notice a blush creeping onto her cheeks, even in the dark, "sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am that I have you."

My heart melts- because come on, how could it not?- and I kiss her cheek. "Funny," I breathe against her skin, "because I was going to say the same thing about you."

Our eyes meet, and I've noticed hers have darkened considerably, and I swallow. She trails her fingertips down the side of my neck, studying my face carefully, and I shiver at her touch. My nerves are suddenly back full force as I realize that _this is it._

"I'm about done here," she murmurs, never halting the movement of her fingers on my skin.

"Yeah?" I say, my voice raspy, and I mentally kick myself. I'm so smooth. She nods, and I grab her hand from where it's resting against my neck and bring it to my lips, kissing each of her fingers slowly. "Then why don't we go home?"

She looks at me, her gaze intense, and I know that the gravity of the situation is not lost on her. Slowly, a smile overtakes her face, and she nods again.

"I'll drive us."

I nod, too, but my thoughts are elsewhere. And again I inwardly pray I don't fuck this up.

* * *

I take a deep breath, gather my courage again, and focus on the change. When I'm standing in the bathroom in my male form, staring at myself in the mirror, I swallow and reassure myself. _It's going to be fine. _

When I come into the bedroom, Brittany's standing by the vanity, and she looks up when she sees me enter. Her eyes widen in surprise before she bites her lip and turns. Her blue eyes scan my body, and I feel naked under her gaze. Well, okay, I _am_ basically naked except for my boxers. But still. I feel even more naked.

"San," Brittany murmurs, moving closer, her eyes dark with what I hope is desire, even though it feels weird on all levels. "You did this for me?"

I swallow, feeling very self-conscious of the lower register of my voice as I say, "Yeah." I clear my throat. "I want to give you everything you want, Brittany."

Her eyes meet mine, and the familiar, predatory look in them, combined with the love I see shining in their depths, make my heart pound.

I'd spent a week practicing in my new form, and I'd been dicking around- pun intended- as a dude all day- and yet, standing in Brittany's presence, I feel like it's my first time being in the body. I feel awkward. She's so familiar, being with her is so easy and just works- but now I'm in a different form, and it just feels- well, different.

Nothing could've prepared me for how it feels when Brittany finally touches me, or how I respond so readily. Her hands smooth over my chest and my breath hitches as she leans up on her toes to kiss me. Her lips always feel heavenly, but the sensation is completely new in my new form. Her lips are familiar, and I can't help but slide my arms around her and pull her in close, deepening the kiss. Her fingers trace over my shoulders and I shiver. My nerves feel like they are on fire as she continues to barely graze her fingertips over my skin.

She presses kisses to my jaw- which is sharper, more rugged. She rubs her hands over my chest, which is flatter. It still feels good, but it's different. She plays with my short, dark hair, running her fingers over my scalp and making a moan rumble up from my throat. Her hands move to my arms, running over my defined biceps, which are tense from her touch, and she smiles.

"You're so warm," she breathes, before she kisses me again, and I sigh into her mouth, relieved that this isn't as weird for her as it is for me. I mean, she'd had sex with me as a human all those years ago, which wasn't her normal form. At least I'm still the same species. I'm still, technically, _me_.

It's still a little weird though.

I push the feelings aside, reminding myself that I'm doing this for Brittany, and as long as she's okay with it, I'm okay with it. I guess.

"Is that bad?" I ask as she pulls back to watch her hands trace over my stomach. It twitches at her touch, and I feel myself getting turned on. I try not to panic- after all, that's kind of the point, right?

She giggles, grinning slyly, and shakes her head, her loose blonde hair shimmering. I swallow. She's so beautiful. I try and focus on something other than the now obvious bulge growing in my boxers.

"It's weird being taller than you," I admit. Brittany just hums and kisses my neck, and I feel my dick- ugh, I have a _dick_- twitch with desire. I bite my lip as her warm, wet tongue darts out and traces down my neck, and my arms tighten around her. "God, Britt," I groan, and the sound of my own voice is a little foreign to me. It rumbles. It's deeper. Brittany doesn't seem to have a problem with it, but-

"Is this weird for you?" I blurt. "Because we don't have to, uh, you know, we could just use a-"

She silences me with a kiss, and when she pulls back, she studies my face again. "It's different," she says. "You're warmer and taller. But I _feel_ you. And I love you- and want you- no matter what form you're in."

"That's kind of gross, Britt," I chuckle nervously. "I mean, what if I was a dog or-"

She cuts me off with another kiss, but this time it's deeper, more passionate.

"Hush now, San," she breathes when she pulls back, tracing her thumb over my bottom lip, "and make love to me. Make love to your wife."

Her words make my stomach tighten and my heart pound, and as our eyes meet, I shiver at the way hers are burning into me. I swallow at her forwardness, but I can't deny that it's what I want the most. Carefully, I wrap my thicker, stronger arms around Brittany's lithe frame and pull her to my chest, enjoying the way her soft breasts press against my firm muscle. They're slightly familiar sensations, but different. Either way, they still stoke my fire higher as Brittany's mouth opens sensually against mine, her smooth, velvet tongue entering my mouth.

It doesn't take long until my arousal is almost unbearable. I can feel myself pressed against Brittany's thigh and I try not to feel ashamed or weirded out. I try to relax. _Brittany's not weirded out. You're doing this for her._

When Brittany touches me, I gasp at the sensation. Ho-ly fuck. I didn't expect it to feel so good. No wonder all the guys I'd been with couldn't last more than a minute-

_Okay, really, Santana? Now is not the time for that. Focus. _

Brittany tugs my boxers off and then guides me to the bed, onto my back. I use the moment to try and regain my sense, because my thoughts have gone fuzzy and I can't concentrate on anything except the throbbing need between my legs. It doesn't help when Brittany gives me a show, slowly stripping her clothes one by one- Jesus fuck, I didn't realize she was wearing so many clothes- and dropping them to the floor, her eyes never leaving mine.

Once she's naked (and I'm aching at the sight) she pushes me to lie flat, climbing on top of me and straddling my hips. I queue up my mental image of dead kittens as she rubs her wet center against my hardness, trying to prepare myself to enter her for the first time.

I'm a little surprised that she's taking control so easily, and I kind of wonder if she'd been thinking about being with a man before. The thought makes me self-conscious- had I not been satisfying Brittany in the bedroom? Did she-

"I thought you'd eventually want to use a strap-on," Brittany breathes in my ear, sending shocks pulsing through my body and calming my fears effortlessly at the same time. She always knows what to say. "So I did some research-"

"At the library?" I chuckle, trying to distract myself. It would be totally unsexy if I came too soon. And it would defeat the purpose. No way would I get Brittany pregnant from shooting on my own chest. Ugh.

She giggles, sounding completely sexy and sending another hard throb of desire to my groin, and adds, "No, I don't think the kind of research I did would be considered _appropriate_ for a human library, San."

She rolls her hips against me and I struggle to breathe. I can't believe how wet she is. I try and take deep, calming breaths as her hips work, and she moans in my ear. Her nipples are hard where they're pressed to my chest, and I feel pressure building in my stomach. I rub my hands up and down Brittany's bare back, loving the smoothness of her skin, and after what feels like a small eternity, Brittany reaches down to guide me to her entrance.

I hold my breath as she works her hips, taking each inch of me in small intervals. I watch her face for discomfort, but she doesn't show any as she sinks down further and further. The thought of her being in pain curbs some of my arousal, which is good, because she's so tight and warm and wet, if I wasn't worried about her I'd probably be _done for_.

When her hips finally touch mine, signifying that I'm completely inside her, I release the breath I've been holding. She rocks against me and I groan, my hands immediately moving to hold her hips tightly. She leans down to kiss me, and I feel her squeezing experimentally around me, making my heart pound and my stomach pressure return.

"Fuck," I wheeze, sounding completely unsexy. Ugh.

"You feel so _good_, San," she tells me as she kisses me again. She lifts her hips slightly and then drops them, and I groan again at the slick feeling.

I try to respond, but I can't. I'm in heaven. The way Brittany rolls her hips on top of me, and the way I can feel every tense of her muscles, every movement of her body, is enough to leave me panting, struggling to hold back from driving my hips up and taking her. I want this moment to be special for her, but as she sits up slightly and presses her hands to my chest, I feel that control slipping. She looks glorious perched on top of me, and I can't even process how amazing it is to actually be able to feel _inside_ her.

She rides me for a bit, and I feel my orgasm building quickly as I watch her. She's so tight. She's so wet. I can't-

"F-_fuck,_ Britt, stop, or this is going to end a lot sooner than we planned-"

She grinds her hips one more time against me and I groan. I sit up suddenly, stilling her and wrapping my arms around her waist. I kiss her deeply and then twist us, putting her on her back. Her hands grip my shoulders and her eyes blaze with love and desire as I drive into her again, taking her. She wraps legs around me and moans, craning her neck to kiss me, and as I rut into her, I angle my hips, trying to go deeper.

She moans my name, digging her nails into my shoulders, and I can feel her getting close. It surprises me, and makes my job harder, because she's tightening around me and suddenly I'm close, myself. I pull back, panting, staring into her questioning eyes, and then I turn her onto her side.

I lay down behind her and, okay, this position is kind of hard to work, but whatever. I don't want Brittany to come looking at a stranger, even if it _is_ me. If I'm behind her, she won't see me, only feel me, and I want her to know it's _me_. So as I slide into her again- ugh, fuck- and wrap my arm around her stomach to hold her close, I kiss just below her ear and breathe, "I love you, Britt."

"San…" she breathes, and I can feel her shuddering against me, her hips pressing back into me as I shift to move deeper inside her. She twists, towards the bed, so that she's half on her stomach, and lifts her knee, giving me better access, and I half lie on top of her, kissing her shoulder. It's intimate, the way we are spooning, and I can feel her heartbeat through her back, syncing with mine in my chest. I reach up to her hand, which is pressed into the bed, and lay mine on top of hers, locking our fingers together.

The angle of Brittany's hips lets me get deep and hit all her spots, and I smile as I realize I can feel all her spots, can feel her responding to them, and even though being a guy is completely weird and not really something I'd ever want to maybe do again, it's definitely a nice one-time experience.

Brittany clenches around me tightly and I suck in a shaky breath. "I've gotta- ugh, _stop_, or I'm gonna come, Britt," I rasp, pulling out and squeezing the base of my dick- yep- harshly to try and slow down my quickly approaching orgasm.

_Dead kittens. Dead kittens._

Brittany twists to kiss me hotly, and when she pulls back, she chuckles against my jaw as she murmurs, "That's entirely the point, isn't it?"

I feel myself twitch in my hand with desire, and watch as Brittany pushes her hips back, forcing me inside her, tight, wet heat sinking onto me and around me and-

"Fuck," I whimper shakily, my breathing hoarse as I grip Brittany's hips like a lifeline. She clenches again, rocks her hips and kisses me with love so intense it practically sears me, and combined with the pressure building in my stomach and in my chest, my nerves feel like they are burning with pleasure. I struggle to hold on just a few more moments, because I can feel Brittany's thrusts growing erratic, I can feel her strangling me inside, and then I feel her entire body tighten against me.

I keep thrusting, almost involuntarily, as Brittany comes hard, and the rhythmic clenching of her walls around me is enough to send me over the edge. My orgasm hits me fast and hard, and I feel the pressure that had been building inside of me finally release. It's a weird sensation but it also feels incredibly good, and I groan into Brittany's shoulder as the waves of pleasure roll through me.

Brittany reaches behind her, cupping my cheek, and I kiss her palm tiredly as my breaths begin to slow. Brittany's still shuddering, and I squeeze her tightly against me as she gasps, "I love you, Santana."

I swallow, feeling my throat tighten with emotion, and I close my eyes and focus, shifting back to my normal form. Back to myself. Because I want to cuddle Brittany as her _wife_. I want to cuddle Brittany as me.

Brittany sighs as she leans back into my touch and my breasts press to her back. She reaches up to stroke fingers through my long hair, and I can see her smile as I hold her close, spooning her.

"I love you, too," I tell her, with my own voice, and Brittany chuckles, hugging my arms around her and resting her head back against my shoulder.

A wave of exhaustion overtakes me and I feel my eyelids droop. I snuggle down against Brittany, enjoying being the big spoon for a change, and hope that my valiant efforts did not go in vain.

Because dead kittens- give me a fucking break.

* * *

It's two weeks later and I'm sitting nervously outside the Master Bathroom- that sounds wanky- wringing my hands and waiting. Impatiently.

I'd had to explain to Brittany about how to take a pregnancy test. She couldn't really understand the point of peeing on the stick, but eventually she just accepted that it was some kind of human magic, and she went into the bathroom to do her thing.

I'd been waiting for five minutes, and I was keeping my fingers crossed that this worked. I didn't want to have to become a man again. I mean, it was real, it was fun, but it wasn't really fun, and I was just fine with being a woman, and so was Brittany. In fact, I'd made love to Brittany the morning following the event- as myself. And then again after breakfast. And then again before, during, and after lunch. Brittany spent the time reassuring me that she definitely wasn't missing out on anything, and that I more than satisfied her in every possible way.

As I said, she always knows what to say.

And if not, well. That's what strap-ons are for, right?

The sound of the door opening draws me back to the present and I look up hopefully as Brittany steps out of the bathroom, holding the pregnancy test. Her eyes meet mine, and I can see she's got the beginning of tears in her blue ones. My heart leaps.

"This small wand gave me a plus sign," Brittany says, and I feel my chest tightening with emotion.

"Britt, that's-" I start as I climb to my feet. She grins.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

**Awww. :')**

**These fucking cuties! I can't with Brittana anymore you guys. ;O; THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this adventure back into the NSG verse. I may write another little NSG story a few months down the line, but I'm not sure yet. If I do, it will be later because IT'S FINALLY TIME FOR PIRATE!BRITTANA!**

**Stay tuned later this weekend for that!**

**Also, next week, some of our beautiful and talented authors in the fandom- plus me- are going to be delivering unto you some Halloween-themed Brittana stories! You're welcome! So stay tuned for that, too! :D**

**Well, review if you feel like it, but if not, then I'll see you on the next adventure! **

**Thanks, as always, for reading! **

**See you soon, pals! :D **


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